Unrequited
by Suilven
Summary: When Morrigan develops feelings for Alistair, she struggles to maintain her mask of indifference. Will she succeed or will he be her undoing?
1. Part 1

**Unrequited**

**Part 1**

'Twas ridiculous, truly. She had thought that he was a bumbling idiot, a fool, in fact, right from the start. How that had evolved into _this_ was simply beyond any kind of reasoning. Maybe it was all drawn from some sort of cosmic balancing act as he was everything that she was not. Yet, through some cruel twist, perhaps it was a mercy even; he was not consumed by her as she was by him.

In those early days when they were all still struggling to find their bearings, uprooted from all that was familiar, she watched him from afar. He was a tool to be used, nothing more. She sniped at him relentlessly. His moral sweetness was hard to bear, such a contrast from Mother's cool and calculating demeanor. She held her tongue more than once for Elissa's sake alone.

Elissa… She was the other troubling factor in this complex equation. She could be as much of a syrupy do-gooder as Alistair, but she was no fool. Morrigan respected her strength. She had gleaned enough of what had happened to her family to know that those early days could not have been easy. Yet, she still managed to push forward, dragging Alistair along in his grief while burying her own. Morrigan thought she had concealed her own fears well during those initial forays deeper into the realms of men, but Elissa seemed to sense her unease. Her words of comfort were… unexpected. It was the first time that she had begun to suspect that she was in over her head. Life in the Wilds had not prepared her for any of this.

The templar was pleasant to look at, there was no denying it, and she was not ashamed of her thoughts in this regard. Looking back now, she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it had all slipped into madness. It was more like a series of small concessions, like throwing pebbles into a pool until there were no longer ripples, but waves.

She had watched the initial attraction between Alistair and Elissa with curiosity. They were driven by such a strange swirl of emotions and it was like nothing she had ever seen or experienced before. The awkward romance slowly unfolding into a deeper passion was so foreign and she could almost sense the primal physical need that sparked beneath the surface of it all. Morrigan studied them with her years of carefully trained and focused detachment. It was all just so, _odd_.

But then, she had the dream. Maybe there was a point when it had all turned on its head after all. It was their first night in Orzammar, and she was having trouble sleeping. She ached for the sky and the stars overhead, her soul despairing against the stone. She felt trapped and restless. She had tossed and turned for what seemed like hours before slipping unaware into the Fade.

_The grass was cool and ticklish beneath her feet and a warm breeze caressed her skin. The trees were fully leafed, draped across the sky like a canopy. If she concentrated, she could hear the low hum of life within the great trunks, sluggish with sweet sap. She was walking now, slow and unhurried, but with purpose. Her feet carried her forward and she obeyed. _

_The scent on the breeze changed slightly – flowers, open sky, water. Morrigan found herself at the edge of a slow-moving river. An ancient tree, boughs bursting with lavender blossoms, dominated the bank. The sun was pleasant and warm, and the shade beneath the wizened trunk beckoned to her gently. How nice it would be to rest here awhile, she thought, and she sat down in the shady grass, leaning back against the rough bark and closing her eyes._

"_I knew I would find you here," said a voice as languid as the river's current._

_Morrigan opened her eyes and saw him approaching. He wore a simple shirt and trousers, no heavy plate weighing him down, as free here as she was. She felt no prickle of annoyance at his presence, only a sense of rightness that he was here at last._

"_I've missed you," Alistair murmured. He sunk to his knees in front of her and took her hands, pulling her up tenderly so that she was kneeling as well. _

"_There is no need to miss me. I am always here," she said softly as she reached her arms up around his neck. Her fingers stroked the hair at the base of his neck as his arms slipped around her narrow waist._

"_Oh, my love," he whispered as his lips closed over hers. The kiss was as long and as sweet as the summer afternoon, and Morrigan lost herself in it. She could feel the beating of both her heart and his racing through her veins. _

_The kiss deepened as their tongues danced together, desire pulsing brightly. Alistair's hands traced up her back, pulling her closer, and she could feel the scorch of his touch even through the thin fabric. She tilted her head back as his mouth moved down her throat. His hands were at her robe, pulling the fabric aside as he worshipped her flesh with his teeth and tongue. She moaned his name and he pulled away with a knowing smile. He caressed her cheek, fingers ghosting down her jaw, before tugging gently at her clothing and easing her body free. His eyes were the color of warm honey as he gazed upon her openly. He moved to his own clothing then, shedding it all like a skin, until he was naked and glorious before her. He was magnificent, a bright god of the woods. _

_Alistair took her hands, pulling her against him once more, as he guided them down to the grass. The ground was shockingly cool next to the feverish warmth of their bodies. She kissed him deeply, enjoying the groan that escaped him. His aroused member slid along her thigh as they tangled themselves around each other. She explored his chest, feeling the lean muscle beneath, tracing downward to where his want for her was abundantly clear. She ran her fingers along his length until he stopped her hand, his breathing wild. His mouth was on hers again as he rolled on top of her, pushing her legs apart with his knee. He eased himself inside her and began to move, his thrusts in time with her racing heart. Her nails tore down his back, the rhythm relentless. She felt the pressure building inside her as she writhed beneath him, crooning his name like a chant. She climbed higher and higher until pleasure coursed through her like arcs of lightning. Alistair pushed himself into her again and again until he screamed her name with a hoarse cry and collapsed, spent on top of her. _

_After a moment, he shifted over, pulling her next to him. Her head was on his chest listening to his heart beat slowing as the tips of his fingers drifted lazily over her shoulders._

"_I love you," he whispered into her hair._

"_I love you too," she murmured, and she meant it._

She jerked awake with a start, shaking uncontrollably. Overcome with emotion, Morrigan clutched her knees to her chest, curling herself into a ball, as she struggled to regain control. She tried to force her mind to pull back from what she was feeling, detach from everything and analyze it from a distance just as Mother had taught her. But, she could not. She was filled with a longing that was indescribable and it was for _him_ of all people. Her heart was still galloping wildly. She was not alarmed at her desire for his body, but these other feelings terrified her. What was happening to her?

Morrigan compelled her body to unclench itself. She needed to focus. Perhaps a bath would help… She stood up and pulled her robes around herself before calling a servant to fill the large tub in the corner of the room. She paced impatiently as she waited. Finally, the servant bowed herself out, and Morrigan removed her robes and sunk down gratefully into the steaming water. It was exquisitely hot, and she felt some of the tension ebb out of her shoulders. She sighed as she lapsed into thought again.

A memory ghosted to the surface… the mirror. How old had she been? Eight summers? Perhaps nine?

oOoOo

She wondered who these strange people were, passing through _her_ forest. They rode horses, she noted with surprise, and they were noisy and careless as they crashed through the undergrowth. Mother would not like these people, she decided. She studied them intently as they went past her hiding place, her focus caught by the woman riding near the center of the group. She was wearing the finest clothes that Morrigan had ever seen and her blond hair was clean and shiny, unlike her own which was perpetually full of twigs and burrs. She trailed after them silently, unable to help herself. She knew she should turn back, Mother would be calling for her soon, but the temptation to get just a little bit closer was too great. She had to stifle a laugh when she saw them making camp for the night. They dared to spend the night here? Who were these people? The hours passed by quickly as she carefully observed them setting up tents, starting a fire, preparing food. They were talking happily amongst themselves, laughing and joking. She was puzzled by them and dangerously curious.

As the sky grew darker, they began to retire for the night leaving only two awake by the fire. Morrigan sighed when the pretty lady went inside her tent. Time to go home now, she thought wistfully. She knew she would never see them again… What if she were to take something small from their camp? There were so many interesting things, surely she could find something small that no one would notice. She considered the gear that lay heaped near one of the tents, but she wanted something _special_.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up with barely concealed delight! Mother had started teaching her the basics of shapeshifting this spring and she had been secretly practicing on her own. She was not very good at it yet, but if she could pull it off she might be able to find something really interesting… Morrigan backed away from the camp quietly, until she was far enough away that she couldn't hear their voices. No sense being careless in case the spell didn't work and she accidentally drew attention to herself. Drawing in a deep breath, she began to cast. She concentrated on the feel of the animal she wanted to become and focused on each area of her body, imagining it changing into the form she desired. She felt the shift as her power crackled through her and then slowly opened her eyes. It had worked! She looked down at her paws and then reached around to examine her fur and tail. Lifting her paws to her face, she felt her ears and nose. This was the first time she had attempted a raccoon. Those dexterous little paws were exactly what she was going to need. Perfect.

She crept stealthily back to the camp, the man scents overpoweringly strong to her newly attuned sense of smell. Morrigan kept to the shadows until she reached the lady's tent. With a glance at the two men sitting by the fire, she bided her time until it was safe to peak in through the flap. Her heightened vision allowed her to see clearly in the dim light and her tail quivered with excitement at her daring.

The lady was brushing out her hair, humming an unfamiliar song. Propped up in front of her was a mirror with a golden rim and handle. Morrigan's whiskers twitched at the sight of it. She _wanted_ it. In the back of her mind, although she refused to even acknowledge the thought, she wanted something else as well. She wanted that beautiful lady to be brushing _her_ hair, to be singing softly to _her_. She blinked fiercely, cross with herself. She took a breath and detached herself from what she was feeling, carefully building a mental wall around it and banishing it all deep within. She shook her head slightly. Better. The mirror would still be hers though. She just had to wait.

Patiently, she slipped back around the tent and curled herself up, wrapping her tail around her. She listened to the sounds within and waited until she heard nothing but breathing, still and slow. Silently, she slipped inside the tent, creeping towards the lady's pack. She lifted the top open with her paws and peered inside. Morrigan couldn't believe her luck; the mirror was right on top. Her heart was beating furiously, her nerves on edge, and she didn't want to make a mistake now that she was so close. She pulled it out with both paws, using her mouth to keep it stable. There! It was awkward to carry, but she steadily dragged it out of the tent. Slowly, ever so slowly, she moved around behind the tent again and then further back into the thicker tree cover. Finally, far enough away, she released her shape and shimmered back to her true form. She had done it! The feeling of triumph almost made her laugh out loud.

She examined her prize with shaking fingers. Looking at it more closely, she could see that the gold on the rim, back, and handle was ornately carved with tiny animals, some with gemstone eyes. Morrigan had never seen anything so fancy, so wonderful, and so decadent. She traced her fingers over it reverently.

Now, to find a place to hide it so Mother would not know… She did not dare to hide it in their small cottage, and Mother knew the woods here better than she did. Perhaps in one of the Tevinter ruins… Yes, that would do for now. She started off for home, knowing Mother was going to be beyond furious at her for being gone so late, but she felt so light and exuberant at her success that she was not even dreading the inevitable beating. The mirror was hers!

She stopped at the first crumbled stone walls that she passed. Surely, there must be a good hiding place here. She trailed her fingers along the cool moss growing over the rocks, looking for a crevice that would be big enough. She found one without too much trouble but now, how to protect the mirror from being damaged? She could wrap it in her cloak, she mused, but then she would be in trouble for losing her cloak as well. Well, it could not be helped. She had come this far and was not about to give up now.

Morrigan could not help studying the mirror again before she wrapped it up. She gently touched each of the little gold animals on the back of the mirror before turning it over to study her own reflection. She had never seen herself so _clearly_ before. Her hair was a deep black like the darkest night sky and her eyes a wolfish golden yellow. Her face was thin, maybe a bit too thin, she thought, and smudged with dirt. Her hair was full of leaves and twigs from her night time adventure so she propped the mirror up in front of her and ran her fingers through it. She thought of the pretty lady, brushing her hair before the same mirror, and she mimicked what she had seen. She hummed a song under her breath and imagined she was in a castle like in one of her books. She was a beautiful princess, loved by all, combing out her hair before bed. There was to be a dance the next day and all the fine gentlemen of the land would be in attendance…

"Well, well, well… So this is what you've been up to, daughter."

"Mother!" Morrigan was shocked out her daydream. She spun around, trying to hide the mirror. Please, let her somehow have not seen it! "I had not realized how late it had become. Perhaps 'twould be best if we started home immediately."

"Yes, perhaps," Mother's voice was cool as always but she had the faintest smile now. Morrigan felt her stomach drop. "But, I think that there is a lesson we need to learn first. Come here, child."

She hesitated slightly, and then stepped forward, exposing the mirror that still lay balanced against the rock.

"So, what have we here? This is the play thing that was worth so much trouble to you, hmmm? I do have to say that your raccoon far exceeded my expectations. Perhaps your finest work to date." Flemeth stepped around Morrigan who, from past experience, knew it was best to remain where she was, unmoving. Mother's wrath was coming. The only question was what form it would take.

Flemeth picked up the mirror and examined it nonchalantly. "So, what sort of life were you dreaming about just now? Let me guess – fancy dresses, lounging around in luxury, true love with a handsome prince? Ha!" Her laugh echoed through the ruin.

She suddenly grabbed Morrigan by the chin and forced her to look up into her face. "Listen carefully, girl," she hissed. "These things are not for you. They will make you weak. Do you want to be some pathetic tool, used by others, or do you want to shape and control your own destiny?" She held up the mirror. "Look at yourself. You are not some prissy noble-born blossom just waiting to be plucked and then crushed underfoot. You are mine and you will learn to be strong."

Flemeth lifted the mirror high and then crashed it down onto the stone, shattering it. The grass at her feet was littered with reflective shards although she still held the golden rim and handle. She tossed it to the ground as well and channeled a narrow blast of heat at it through her hands. The carved animals melted and ran like wax, until there was nothing left but tiny rivers of gold trickling through the grass.

Morrigan's lower lip trembled as she struggled to control herself. She was overwhelmed with rage, shame, and fear and, before she could rein it in, she was lashing out.

"'Twas mine!" she shouted hoarsely. Her voice in the oppressive stillness frightened her. Mother's gaze was dark and ominous. "I hate you," she said quietly.

Flemeth struck her across the face so hard that it nearly knocked her over. "Feel free to hate me all you like, you still belong to me." Morrigan didn't move and stared at her defiantly, seething inside. "Foolish girl, I am going home. We will discuss the rest of your punishment tomorrow," she said ominously. She transformed into a large grey wolf and loped off into the trees, leaving her alone.

Morrigan stood, unable to move, for what felt like an eternity. Her face was stinging from the blow and her eyes felt hot and dry. She had wanted that mirror like nothing else in her entire life. Why did Mother have to be so cruel? Was there really that much harm in her keeping it? She sunk to her knees, looking at the multitude of stars reflected in the chunks of mirror that lay strewn out before her. 'Twas mine, she thought again indignantly.

She screamed and raged then, shocking herself with the power of her anger, before promptly bursting into tears for the first time in her life. She cried until she felt numb, her small shoulders shaking.

Snuffling, she rubbed at her eyes furiously. Mother wanted her to be strong. Fine then, she would be strong. Some day, she would even be stronger than Mother and then she would use _her_, a tool to fuel her _own_ power. She smiled then before wending her way home.

oOoOo

The water in the tub was cool now, so she dried herself off and redressed. Finally, she came to a decision. This dream meant nothing. She did not desire that stupid templar like she had coveted the mirror. She did not want him in _any_ way. She did not feel anything for him. He was an idiot and she could walk away from all of them right now if she didn't need them for what was to come. Perhaps today, she would talk to Elissa about Mother. Her revenge was coming and it would be so sweet. She grinned.

She opened her door quickly, sure she would find Elissa already in the common room. She collided with someone in the hallway.

"You careless buffoon! Watch where you are – oh!" Her eyes widened in surprise as she realized it was Alistair. The way she had felt in the dream came back in a rush that almost made her knees buckle. She was trapped in his eyes and felt herself flush. She was humiliated by her body's betrayal.

"Oh, hello, Morrigan. You look happy this morning. Found someone new to terrorize or is it just going to be me again?" He smiled down at her rakishly and she felt her heart stutter in her chest. His hair was damp, he had clearly just bathed as well, and he was dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, not unlike what he had been wearing in her dream. She stared at him, her mind blank.

"What? No scathing retort? I'm hurt." He was looking at her oddly.

"I, I have no time for your foolishness," she managed to fumble out.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he replied, moving past her towards the stairs.

When he was out of sight, Morrigan leaned back against the wall and drew in a shaky breath. This must never happen again. Ever. She would not be weak. These emotions would not control her. She would shape her own destiny.

She marched determinedly down to the common room. Of their group, only Alistair and Elissa were there. They sat at a table in the back corner, huddled together. She was laughing, and his arm was draped around her shoulders. He leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Morrigan stood frozen, watching them. She was a little girl, watching a beautiful lady brushing her hair before a golden mirror. He looked up and saw her then, but she turned and fled.

Back in her room, she threw herself down on the bed, trying to force herself to quit _feeling_ and just go back to _thinking_ already. Jealousy was seething through her, rippling through her limbs, making her heart clench tightly in her chest. Fine, she wanted him, she grudgingly admitted to herself. She wanted what he and Elissa had. Was this love? She did not think so, but with no experience at all to draw upon, she was floundering in the darkness. Perhaps she had not learned Mother's lesson as well as she had thought. She was the fool here, she thought bitterly.

She moped in her room most of morning, waging an internal battle that she had no hope of winning. She had to face him some time and close contact was unavoidable unless she chose to leave now. But no, there was too much at stake here to just go. If she couldn't stop what she was feeling, she reasoned, then she must direct all of her efforts into hiding it. A knock on her door brought her out of her brooding thoughts.

She opened the door to see Elissa. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that it wasn't him.

"Hi Morrigan, can I come in?"

"Of course," she replied. "What do you require?"

"I was hoping you would join us this afternoon. This issue with the succession is going to be a real problem so we need to decide which candidate we're supporting and quickly. Until Orzammar has a king, they will do nothing to honor our treaties. I would appreciate your insight." She was always so polite, even to her. Morrigan genuinely did like her, despite it all, which made everything else just that little bit worse.

"I would be happy to accompany you. Let me fetch my staff."

"Oh!" she said, before Morrigan turned away. "I nearly forgot. I found this at a stall here and it reminded me of the story you told me back in Lothering. I thought you might like it." Elissa pulled her pack from her shoulders and rummaged through it.

It was all she could do but laugh when Elissa handed her a golden rimmed mirror, nearly identical to that one so many years ago. Clearly the Maker, if He even existed, had an ironic sense of humor.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: All your reviews and kind words are so greatly appreciated. The second half of this story is already written and I'm editing it now so it should be up in the next few days. Thanks for reading!<em>


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

The months passed by in endless days, as Elissa drove them onward, hungry and weary. After Orzammar, it was the lands of the Dalish, then Haven and finally Denerim. Morrigan was careful to keep her distance, the cold façade an easy mask to maintain. Only her dreams betrayed her. She deliberately set up her sleeping area further away from the others, withdrawing to the shadows, in case his name should slip from her lips unaware.

They were staying with Arl Eamon at his estate in the city now and the constant crush of people assaulted her senses. Now that her time here was nearly at an end, she found herself longing more and more for the peaceful quiet of the Wilds; to be far away from all these people and the strange emotions they evoked. She wanted to retreat into solitude, fade away, and forget. But, 'twas not time to dwell on that now. The hardest night of her life was coming and although Mother had prepared her for it, she could not deny the cold fear that gripped her.

The day of the Landsmeet came at long last. She had not been invited to attend, but she watched the proceedings intently, no one sparing a glance at the raven roosting high in the rafters. Morrigan watched as they challenged Loghain, first with words and then swords as Alistair finally had his revenge. She saw the terror in his eyes when Elissa announced that he would be king and felt a twinge of pain at the relief that then flooded through them when she added that she would be ruling by his side. So many changes, rippling through their lives, as the final battle with the Archdemon was nearly at hand. 'Twas time for her to prepare now.

She flew back to the estate, enjoying the freedom of flight and the caress of the wind, even if it did smell of garbage and dogs. She swooped down into her room through the upper window that she had left cracked open and changed back into her human form before calling for a bath. She dug through her pack and removed a small packet that she had wrapped up carefully some months before. Unfolding the paper, she removed the small bar of soap, fragrant with herbs, before taking off her robes and stepping into the tub. She washed herself slowly, lathering her hair first and then working her way down her body. She allowed herself the luxury of soaking in the water briefly after she had finished. With a sigh, she dried herself off, combing out her hair and drying it with a heat spell before binding it back into the customary knot at her neck. Morrigan checked that she had bolted her door before sitting down, still naked, on the floor. She closed her eyes, feeling her magic swell within her like a hurricane begging to be unleashed. She cast the spells as Mother had taught her, cleansing her body for tonight. She crushed down the storm of emotions that threatened to undo her. She must not fail.

The hours passed by unnoticed until evening was falling over the city. In the fading light, Morrigan dressed to join the others for Alistair and Elissa's triumphant return. She hoped that the other Warden would tell them the secret of how the Archdemon was to be slain, how one of their lives would be forfeit in the process. She had already rehearsed what she was going to say to Elissa and knew she would be more persuasive if that information did not come from her. She felt a brief pang of regret. Elissa had been the closest thing to a friend she had ever had.

She stood silently through Alistair's announcement to the group, Leliana's incessant simpering and congratulatory words grating on her nerves, until the two Wardens took their leave to speak with Riordan. She steadied herself and went to Elissa's room to wait.

oOoOo

It had been easy to convince her to talk to Alistair, as she had known it would be. She dangled his life before her and her life before him. How could they choose anything but the way out that she offered, no matter what the consequences would be? This had been Mother's plan for so long, although she would be the one to reap the rewards now since Flemeth was dead at Elissa's hand. Well, as dead as one could actually make her anyway. After combing carefully through Mother's grimoire, Morrigan felt sure she knew enough to complete the ritual successfully on her own. The power would be hers and she would be free. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

She did wish that the ritual could have been performed with anyone but him. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. But, Riordan was too old, the taint in him too far gone, and there were no other Wardens left in Ferelden. It was going to take all her resolve to get through this. She needed the child and there was no other way. She rubbed her face slowly as she sat at the edge of the bed, nervously twisting the corner of the bed sheet in her hands. He knocked once and then entered, shutting and bolting the door behind him. There was no turning back now. His golden hair gleamed in the candle light, his amber eyes wary. His hands were unconsciously clenched in tight fists at his sides.

"Let's get this over with." His voice was soft, but cold.

"As you wish," she replied, rising from the bed to collect two wooden goblets from the low table in the center of the room. She turned her back to him, her heart thudding in her chest. She hadn't been alone with him since her dreams had begun, pushing him as far away as she could. Would she be able to draw him close without falling to pieces? She opened a small packet and added the contents to both cups before pouring water into them. She could feel his eyes against her back. She used her magic to heat them, swirling the herbs with a delicate motion. Finally, she turned around.

"Here, drink this," she said, holding out one of the cups to him.

Alistair took it suspiciously. "What is it? There's no blood in here, is there?"

""Tis an assortment of herbs, a tea if you will. They will help prepare your body for the ritual."

He continued to stare at the cup, making no movement to drink.

"If you are concerned, I can assure you that your perceptions and thoughts will not be altered in any way. These herbs are merely to cleanse, nothing more. Look," she said, bringing her goblet to her lips and drinking deeply. It was bitter, but not unpleasantly so.

He sighed before draining his own goblet in one long swallow. "Now what?"

"Now, we begin. You may remove your clothes and wait for me on the bed." Morrigan hoped she had managed to keep her voice from shaking.

She retreated into the adjoining bathing chamber to perform the final part of the casting. She didn't want him to see this. She removed her robes, leaving her small clothes in place, before taking an ornate dagger from the case she had left there. Taking a breath to steady herself, she methodically drew the symbols that she had been taught so long ago using just the tip of the blade. Only the tiniest drops of blood escaped from the fine lines she traced over her stomach. She could hear Alistair undressing in the other room but she barely noticed the distraction. When she had finished, she pulsed her magic through the channels she had created, red light fusing the patterns into her skin. As the light faded, there was no trace of the marks she had made. She was ready. She was afraid.

Alistair was lying on the bed, clad only in his smalls as well, looking extremely nervous. She advanced on him slowly, crawling up to join him on the bed before extinguishing all the candles in the room but one. She couldn't help comparing him to the Alistair in her dreams, although she knew that this was going to be nothing like that. There would be no tenderness, no softness, no intimacy. She would seduce him, he would give in to his baser instincts, and then it would all be finished.

Kneeling in front of him, she undid her breast band, tossing it to the floor. She was not unattractive, she thought, and hoped that it would be enough to arouse him somewhat. She saw his gaze drop to her exposed breasts, lingering for a moment, before looking back at her face. She could see the sadness in his eyes, even though he was betraying Elissa with her consent. He was angry too. Yes, she could sense it simmering beneath his forced calm… Angry with Elissa for making him do this, angry with himself, angry with her. She hesitated for a moment before removing her small clothes as well. Alistair didn't move, but lay there, watching her.

"Perhaps you should remove yours as well, unless you know of some means to procreate with them on," she mocked, trying to goad him into action. "Or, perhaps you would like for me to do it for you?"

He glared at her before lifting his hips and pulling them off quickly. He was partially erect, so clearly the sight of her naked body was having some effect. Morrigan moved further up towards him before stopping at his side.

She reached out her hands to stroke his chest and he flinched. "Close your eyes and think of her, if you like," she muttered crossly.

He shut his eyes quickly and she felt some relief to not have him staring at her. She stroked his chest, the tiniest hint of magic crackling from her fingertips. Mother had made sure she was well-versed in the art of seduction, yet another tool in her arsenal. She circled each of his nipples slowly, ghosting her fingers down the ridges of his muscles. She bent forward to lick one, making sure her own breasts grazed his chest in the process. Morrigan forced herself to stay focused on the logistics of what she was doing. If she stopped to think that it was truly _him_ here, naked in her bed, hers to do with as she wished…

Her hands drifted down the plane of his stomach while her mouth licked and teased. She noted the signs of his response as his heart beat faster and his breathing increased. When her hand reached his member, it was hard and eager now. She wrapped her hand around his heat and he groaned. She stroked him languidly, building the pressure for him. The electricity in her fingers was like nothing he had ever experienced before. "How are you – What are you doing?" he asked thickly.

"Magic has all sorts of uses, templar," she responded. "There are many who are unable to go back to regular women once they have had a mage as a lover."

His eyes opened then, the suddenness of the fury radiating from him startled her. "You are not my lover," Alistair snarled. "I'm doing this for Elissa. I have no idea what you're really up to, and I hate to admit that I don't care if it means saving her life, but… I hate this. I hate you for doing this to me, for making me feel like _this_," he said, gesturing at his arousal in her hand. "Let's just be done with this. Now."

He sat up quickly, grabbing her roughly by the arms. She was too shocked to move. This was a side to him that she had never seen before and it was frightening. He flipped her over onto the bed, crushing her beneath him. His mouth was on her breasts, hard and bruising. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he swirled it with his tongue before pinching it between his teeth. His touches were rough and hard with barely contained rage. He poured his anger and grief into her, nipping and biting at her skin. Finally, he reached down, pushing her legs apart. Morrigan was bewildered by the sensations, pleasure and pain, blurring together. She could feel the tip of him pressing up against her. With a grunt, he pushed himself deep inside her, easily breaking through the slight resistance. She choked back a whimper of pain, unable to stop herself.

Alistair froze. His eyes shot open. "You're a – "

All she could do was nod slightly, not trusting her voice. She was shaking.

She watched his anger drain away, the fury in his eyes replaced by shame. "I, I'm sorry. I never suspected. I – Did I hurt you?"

His kindness was more than she could bear. She turned her head the side, closing her eyes tightly. "No," she whispered. "'Twas necessary, for the ritual to work…" Her words trailed off into a pained silence.

Alistair was overcome with pity, watching her internal struggle not to weep in front of him. This was Morrigan, the heartless witch, the _monster_, he thought. So why could he think of nothing but the little broken bird that he had found when he was a boy? He had heard it hit the wall, and cradled it gently as it had fluttered against his hands, shattered but still fighting to get away. Morrigan lay beneath him, only her breathing giving away how hard she was fighting to remain in control. What had Flemeth done to her to make her what she was now? For all that she had mocked him for his naivety, Alistair suspected now that she was even more of an innocent than he had been – just much more skilled at hiding it.

He rolled off her carefully. "Morrigan," he said softly. She opened her eyes as he stroked down her cheekbone. They lay there in silence as Alistair tried to collect his thoughts. He could see the bruises starting to appear on the pale whiteness of her skin from his rough hands. He swallowed noisily, consumed with guilt. "I'm sorry. I had no right to treat you that way."

She pulled back, shaking her head, but he cut her off before she could speak. "And," he continued, "I'm sorry for the way I've behaved, well, since the beginning. We couldn't have made it to where we are now without you." He looked miserable but spoke slowly and deliberately. "I couldn't see past my own stupid preconceptions and you deserve better than that. I used to wonder what Elissa saw when she spoke so highly of you and I realize now that I just wasn't allowing myself to see you as a person." He paused. "Can you ever forgive me?" he asked hesitantly.

"There is nothing to forgive, Alistair. Set me up on a pedestal if you wish, but I am still the same person that I was before you started feeling sorry for me. My life is what it was and I am stronger for it. I do not need your pity," she hissed. "I do not need friendship, or love, or any of those other frivolities that you people all seem to think are so important."

"I think you do." He looked at her shrewdly. "I think you're afraid to admit that you want those things."

"I do not!" she shouted fiercely, surprising herself, as his eyes widened in surprise. "I am not allowed to want or need or love. It is not my place. Those things are not for me! Not now, not ever!" She sat up breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed.

"That's only because you won't allow anyone to get close to you. It's your decision to make, Morrigan."

"'Tis not so simple. Mother taught me that – "

"You aren't her! It's _your_ life!" If Flemeth had been there, Alistair would have punched her in the face, legendary Witch of the Wilds or no.

The fight sagged out of her and her shoulders slumped down. "Even if I wanted to, I cannot change what I am, who I am. This is just the way things _are_." She felt foolish having this conversation with him. She had never been this vulnerable with anyone and now, here she was, standing at the edge of an unfathomable abyss. She pulled her knees up to her chest and curled her arms around them.

Alistair cautiously sat up and reached his arm around her shoulders, fully expecting her to push him away. She was so small, smaller than Elissa even, and so _fragile_. A broken bird, fighting to live.

"Morrigan? Can I ask you something?" he said gently.

She looked up at him with a small nod.

"Do you still want to do this? Is this really something _you_ want or just something that Flemeth told you that you wanted?" He pulled his arm away and ran his fingers through his hair absently. "I know you say that this ritual will keep Elissa or me from dying when we slay the Archdemon, but what if you're wrong? What if Flemeth lied to you? And, even if it is true, are you sure of the consequences?"

Morrigan thought quietly for a few minutes before answering. "No, I cannot be sure that Mother did not lie to me about some aspect of the ritual. While what I have in her grimoire corresponds to what I have been told, I have no doubt that she could easily have modified the book to show me exactly what I was intended to see. Do I want to go through with it?" She paused again, weighing her response in her mind. She opted for omission. "Yes," she concluded. She left the rest unsaid.

__Yes, so that my power will be great enough to keep anyone from ever controlling me again. Yes, because Elissa is the only person who has ever called me 'friend'. Yes, because I dream of you every night and I could not bear it if you died, especially if I had the power to stop it.__

Alistair drew in a shaky breath. "Alright."

She was still curled up in a ball, her arms around her legs with her chin resting on her knees. Unsure how to begin, he rested his hand on her back, lightly trailing his fingers down her spine. He couldn't help comparing her body to Elissa's – Morrigan was smaller, slimmer, more delicate – but he pushed the thoughts away. He missed Elissa so much and the desire to race out of the room into her arms was unbelievably strong. He had to do this; he had to take the chance that he could save her, to clutch to the hope that they could actually have a life together after the Blight. He felt her relaxing under his touch now, unclenching ever so slightly. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want to hurt Morrigan either. He knew what it was like to be unloved as a child, but he somehow knew that it had been so much worse for her.

"Here," he said pushing her forward slightly so that he could maneuver around to sit behind her. She looked at him with a puzzled expression until Alistair began massaging her neck and shoulders with practiced hands. She had never experienced anything like this before and she caught herself sighing contentedly as he moved down her back as well. When he reached the base of her spine, his hands returned to her neck as he loosened her hair, freeing it from the tight knot she always wore. He combed his fingers through it loosely. "Much better," he murmured.

Morrigan leaned back against his chest as his hands ghosted over her arms and then across her collar bone. She shivered as his fingers brushed her nipples and then his hands cupped her breasts firmly, kneading them lightly. He smoothed the hair away from her neck before pulling the ridge of her ear gently in his teeth. His breath was warm against her throat as kissed his way down, his tongue flicking against her skin. She tilted her head and then his mouth was on hers. Her lips were so soft against his and he teased them with his tongue.

Abandoning herself in the moment, she kissed him back feverishly, turning her body towards his to press herself against him. He groaned against her mouth as her tongue darted inside. His hands encircled her back as he shifted to lie down, pulling her on top of him. Morrigan could feel him, hot and hard against her and she pushed her body against his. He moaned, but she refused to relinquish his mouth, their kisses heavy and full of hunger. Alistair's hands stroked down her sides, caressing her hips and pulling her harder against him. She ground down, feeling the heat of his arousal brushing up against her and his hips bucked up in response.

Carefully he rolled her over, continuing to kiss her, not breaking contact until he was fully on top of her. Her breathing was ragged and wild as she looked up at him with those heartbreakingly yellow eyes. "Trust me?" he said thickly.

"Yes," she panted.

He moved slowly down her body, his mouth snatching kisses as he went. He kissed the mottled bruising on her arms, feeling a flush of guilt, before turning his attention to her breasts. Gently, he nipped and suckled as she writhed beneath him.

"Alistair, please," she moaned and he moved down her lean stomach to the dark nest of curls between her legs. He paused then, seeing the streaks of blood now dry on her thighs. He swallowed roughly, filled with shame and sadness.

"One moment," he said softly as she glanced at him confused, her eyes muddled with passion. He rose and went into the bathing chamber, returning with a damp cloth. He began tenderly wiping the dried blood from her legs and Morrigan had to bite back the tears that were threatening to overtake her. How was it possible that he could be so kind, so gentle? Her heart lurched when he looked up at her, his amber eyes so warm in the candle light. He placed the cloth on the floor. "Are you sure?"

"I am yours," she said, as close to the truth as she was willing to go.

He wanted to pleasure her. She had never known affection or love, no kisses for scraped knees, no hugs to soothe away nightmares. He could give her this moment, this one breathless connection with another human being, and he hoped it would be enough. His head dipped down and his mouth and tongue descended between her folds.

"Oh, Alistair," she breathed as pleasure coursed through her body. Her fingers clutched the bed sheets, as she wriggled beneath him. His breath was hot and the stubble from his cheeks was prickly against the smooth skin of her thighs. She felt the pressure building higher and higher within her as her hips rose against him – _harder, faster, more, don't stop, please, don't stop_. Her hands were in his hair now, forcing his mouth against that sweet spot that his tongue was dancing around in lazy circles. He swept his tongue across her in rhythm with her hips and she could no longer think – _more, Alistair, yes, there, please_ – and she exploded, crying out his name, holding him in place.

He leaned back, nudging her legs further apart. She opened her eyes and saw the question there. She nodded and he slid back on top of her, supporting his weight with his arms to keep from crushing her. Ever so slowly this time, he pushed himself inside her. She tensed and he stopped, waiting. There was no pain this time, only another rush of pleasure. Her entire body relaxed and he began to move. She matched his motions, her body rising up in rhythm with him, and their pace quickened. A fine sheen of sweat covered his chest and she held his hips, pulling him in deeper. She felt herself rushing towards the abyss once more and she welcomed it, grinding herself against him as he groaned. Each thrust sent another shock of sensation through her.

"Morrigan," he gasped and she was undone.

He followed right behind, spilling inside her with one final powerful thrust. He collapsed on top of her, panting, holding her close. He kissed her hair as she clutched him tightly. As their heart rates slowed, she buried herself in his arms, trying to savor the smell and feel of him. 'Twas over now. Time to let him go.

Morrigan gently untangled herself from his embrace, sitting up and pulling the sheet up to cover her nakedness. "You should go," she said softly. "She needs you more than I." The relief in his eyes made her ache.

Alistair pulled back from her, seeing through the mask she wore. "Yes," he replied rising from the bed to collect his clothes. He dressed slowly while she watched, her face impassive, only her eyes giving her away.

When he was finished, he unbolted the door and turned back to her. He ran his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words. "Thank you, for doing this, for letting me save Elissa's life, for saving my life too I suppose." He paused, thinking. "You know, you don't have to leave if you don't want to. There would always be a place for you here – "

"No," she said firmly. "I do not belong here. I am part of the Wilds and this place would destroy me, destroy all that I am."

He nodded. "Good-bye, Morrigan."

"Good-bye, Alistair." Her heart was a chunk of stone in her chest.

The door clicked shut behind him. She was alone. Morrigan lay back down on the bed, the smell of him, of them, still strong. She curled herself in the blankets and wept with great gasping sobs for the second time in her life. She cried for a long time before sleep finally took her.

_She was walking in through a clearing, the cool grass against her feet. The sky was dark and dotted with stars and a gleaming half moon hung low over the trees. Something twinkled in the darkness and she bent down to pick it up. It was a small reflective shard of glass and she turned it idly in her hands. She knew it was important for some reason but she couldn't for the life of her remember why. She stepped forward again gingerly and saw another piece. She collected that one too, and soon she had to fold the hem of her robe up to carry them all. For every one she gathered, she would spy another one just ahead. Finally she sunk down to her knees, exhausted._

"_What are you doing?" A voice broke the stillness._

_Morrigan looked up. A little boy, no more than three or four years old, stood watching her. He had hair like a raven's wing, black with glints of blue, and eyes the color of warm amber. His face was solemn._

_She looked down at the pile of shards in her lap. ""Tis my heart, young one. I have broken it and I am looking for the pieces although I fear it cannot be fixed."_

_He crouched down next to her, studying her closely. At last, he seemed to come to a decision. "You can share mine, if you like."_

"_I should like that very much," she replied._

_He extended his hand and she took it, rising to her feet. The shards in her lap fell unnoticed to the ground. She looked up at the sky and saw the first hint of pink on the horizon. Dawn was coming._

"_Let's go," he said. "There is so much that I want to see."_

_His small hand in hers, they walked together towards the sunrise._

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: I fell in love with Morrigan when writing this story. She is so incredibly complex and I hope I did her justice. Thanks for reading!<em>


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